


Ukais salvation

by Indigoblau



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Drama, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Follow-up, Gen, Graphic Description of Injury, I wrote this only to purify my soul, Salvation, Suicide, i can finally die in peace, mentioned - Freeform, or at least somehow graphic, what is this even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigoblau/pseuds/Indigoblau
Summary: This is a somehow follow up for the story from Redwizardfox!IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILER ABOUT THIS STORY, READ THE ORIGINAL STORY FIRST IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS.I REPEAT, SPOIILLERRRSSSSS, FOLKS.Now, after reading fox' story I DIED A THOUSAND DEATHS. It's so dramatic and sad and omg jfc erigwpeiougjöerAnd even after almost a year since I read it, my heart still cries thinking about it.It's so damn well written!! (READ IT)Since I finished it I always had that particular scene in mind about what happens after Ukais suicide.Or probably it happens in the short time between loosing consciousness and actually dying?No one knows!However, I wanted him to have his happy end.And now he has.My writing isn't near as good as hers, but if you liked the original story, please give it a try!!Thank you <3





	Ukais salvation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Redwizardfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwizardfox/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rolling Thunder!! (A.K.A Dancing in the Meadow of Fire and Death)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6981223) by [Redwizardfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwizardfox/pseuds/Redwizardfox). 



> This is a somehow follow up for the story from Redwizardfox!  
> IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILER ABOUT THIS STORY, READ THE ORIGINAL STORY FIRST IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS.  
> I REPEAT, SPOIILLERRRSSSSS, FOLKS.
> 
> Now, after reading fox' story I DIED A THOUSAND DEATHS. It's so dramatic and sad and omg jfc erigwpeiougjöer  
> And even after almost a year since I read it, my heart still cries thinking about it.  
> It's so damn well written!! (READ IT)  
> Since I finished it I always had that particular scene in mind about what happens after Ukais suicide.  
> Or probably it happens in the short time between loosing consciousness and actually dying?  
> No one knows!  
> However, I wanted him to have his happy end.  
> And now he has.
> 
> My writing isn't near as good as hers, but if you liked the original story, please give it a try!!
> 
> Thank you <3

He felt like he was floating.  
He had neither sense nor sensibility for his body or his limbs. He didn’t know his name, nothing about himself or the situation he was in.  
He wasn’t even aware of the fact, that he, at least somehow, WAS aware, a faint feeling or more something like an understanding of him existing.  
He didn’t felt anything. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot either, there was.. like no temperature art all. It was more the absence of anything that made a man believe he was alive.  
But what was “alive” again? He didn’t mind this condition though; he didn’t even know how to mind, to be honest.  
Time didn’t exist either, but again, there was also no need for it to be there.  
As he was floating in this timeless, substance less space, somewhere deep in his hazy, numb awareness, a spark flew and lit the tiniest of fires possible.  
But that one spark was enough, to illuminate information in his consciousness. The information that he was. Slowly, like a real old, rusted engine starting, he began to realize that he could think.  
And If he could think, then he had to have a brain and a head, right? And in this exact moment he’d thought of this, he had a head. It had no shape or appearance in particular, but it was there and did its job.  
His awareness rose further, soon stipulating that when he had a head, there had to be a body., too. Arms and legs, a neck and a back. Because that’s what humans look like, don’t they?  
So he was human. His limbs and his body, too, had no real shape or look, but he could feel that they were there, exactly where he assumed them to be.  
The next thing that got into his mind, was the cold. Where were his clothes? There they were.  
Clothes made out of no material, with no colours or form, just about right to match and cover his shapeless body and protect it from the cold.  
Cold? Right, it have had to be cold the last time he was conscious. So.. he was conscious before? So he was.. like.. somehow there was a “before”, there had to be a story, a life of him.  
A name.  
He had a name, but there was none on his mind. He tried to remember anything, at least some little detail about his before, but he failed miserably.  
It was like something was locking his memories away from him and he didn’t knew the code to get access to them.  
Maybe he’d get a hold of them if he stood and up looked around, finding out where he was.  
So he stood up, he had no muscles, because he didn’t had thought of them yet, but his body moved as he wished, because he remembered the motion itself.

Suddenly, there was light.  
Not that it had been dark before, but now he knew it was bright and blinding.  
And if he could be blinded then he had eyes.  
He blinked and tried to make out where the light was coming from and then he stopped short.  
There was ball.  
Now, this was odd. He hadn't thought of it. Hell, he hadn't even been aware such a thing was existing until it had appeared in front of him.  
It confused him.  
Oh.  
So he could be confused.  
He felt like an actually existing human being, like a person with thoughts and feelings and a will. He wasn't quite sure it this was good or bad since he now was confronted with his uncertainty, fear, confusedness and.. guilt.  
Without a clue who or where he was, without a hint about his name or life he felt the deadly weight of guilt on his shoulders, in his mind and heart.  
Obviously, he had fucked up.  
But what? And how?

Just so he had something to do he went to the ball and picked it up. It looked worn down and often used. Many scratches and the fading blue and yellow colours told a story of many hours of volleyball.  
Oh.  
So it was a volleyball. This somehow made sense. He didn't knew why but somehow the ball seemed to fit his hands perfectly.  
And then suddenly the scene changed.  
He now was in a gym, the nothingness around him soundlessly morphed into walls, a ceiling and a floor he could stand on.  
As he looked around, he registered a once broken but now repaired broom lying next to the supplies storage room. It was a relatively small gym and other than the broom and a net as well as a few strewn balls, it was empty.  
Even though there was no one other than him he heard the joyful shouting of young people, the bouncing of balls and immediately, he felt at home.  
This was.. right. He belonged here.  
He closed his eyes and drank in the atmosphere, chasing away the feeling of guilt and fear still lingering somewhere in his mind. He was save here, there was nothing to be afraid of.  
For a while he just stood there, time didn't matter anyway.  
As he opened his eyes again however, something was off.  
The sounds he just had heard abruptly ended and it went dark, as if someone had put out the lights.  
Surprised he looked around; searching for the reason of this sudden change but there was nothing he could make out. Nothing but a growing, nagging feeling that there was a danger hiding somewhere.  
Hastily he began to search around the room and as sudden as the calming sound of volleyball had ended there now was a new one.  
This sound however wasn't nice and calming. The screeching of wheels echoed through the room, cutting through his head like laser, leaving a loud ringing in his ears.  
Unable to withstand the noise any longer he placed his hands over his ears but it didn't help. The horrible sound wasn't outside, it was in his own head, feeding the now way too strong feeling of guilt and fear inside his heart.  
In an attempt to get rid of the noise inside his head he blindly grasped for the volleyball net in the middle of the gym, maybe this would trigger a change again?  
It did.  
But it wasn't really what he had hoped for. The deadly sound ended, but now there was a new one, more quiet and not as ear-piercing but way more horrible than before.  
He heard the quiet crying of someone.

Hastily he looked around the room to find the one crying, maybe they needed help?  
But there was no one.  
A harsh noise startled him and brought his attention back to the centre of the gym.  
The floor was broken right under the net and branches grew out of it, long and deadly sharp, searching for something to pierce through.  
The crying got louder as the branches grew bigger and stronger and soon they were all over the net, tearing the strings apart and searching their way to the top of the gym.  
He wanted to run, wanted to reach the door and leave this horrible nightmare but he couldn't.  
His feet felt like glued to the ground and unable to move even an inch he just stood there, watching the branches get bigger by the minute, his ears deafen by the now unbearable loud crying.  
As the branches reached the ceiling, they didn't stop, they broke right through the concrete worming their way into freedom.  
Drops fell upon him right from the jagged and ripped open ceiling.  
So it was raining outside.  
But this rain was strange.  
It was red and thick and warm and smelled like dead.  
And with a horror-stricken expression he realised: This was blood.  
This was blood raining on him from the pierced ceiling, flowing down the branches and drenching everything in screaming bright red.  
A person appeared before him and he would've screamed if he could. The chest of the man with dark hair and broken glasses sitting only halfway on his nose was punctured by the branches just like the ceiling.  
It was a horrible sight and he closed his eyes, hoping to never see such a thing again.  
And there it was again, this unbearable feeling of deep, heavy guilt lingering in his mind and consuming his sanity.  
And suddenly he remembered something.  
He killed this man.

As soon as he had thought this, the whole scene disappeared, leaving him in nothingness for a few seconds before turning into something again.  
He was on a street right before a small shop. A sign over the entrance said "Sakanoshita Store".  
It looked strangely familiar but he couldn't remember why.  
The scene looked peaceful and he heard birds singing and the noise of bypassing cars and people. But again there seemed to be no cause for the sounds since he was on his own again.  
His heart was still racing from before and he racked his brain about why he had killed a man.  
He wouldn't do this, would he? But then again, he didn't knew anything about himself.  
And this feeling was so clear and strong that there couldn't be a doubt: He killed him.  
But apparently this wasn't everything regarding the still nagging feeling of guilt in his heart.  
What now?  
Drawn by a unknown desire he tried to open the door to the small store in front of him and as soon as he laid as much as a finger on the doorknob every changed again.  
The sound of casual bypassing and the birds singing once again retreated for a soft crying, a much younger voice this time, he registered.  
And suddenly there was something crashing down from the heavens.  
A bus.  
The vehicle was littered in scratches and dents and one side was crushed and glass was shattered across the street.  
Desperate he tried to get to the bus, maybe there were still people inside which needed help? Where had this bus come from anyway? Why did it fall down all of a sudden? But the windows were black and he couldn't find a door.  
The crying in the back grew louder again and as he rounded a corner of the damaged bus he saw a person standing there. It was a boy with short hair and a tracking suit.  
Or at least he would've worn one but with horror he realised that the boy hadn't have a body. He had a head and a neck and arms and about half of his torso but the rest seemed to be consumed by a black hole coming from one of the crashed bus sides.  
Desperately he tried to reach him to help him but again he couldn't move. He couldn't speak or think or do at least anything other than staring at the dying boy in front of him.  
Oh.  
Right.  
He killed that boy, too.  
And everything disappeared again.

The next thing he registered was a big clock appearing before him and the ticking of the hands ringed in his ears and made his head ache.  
He felt like the time was running out but.. for what?  
For who?  
Why?  
He couldn't see anything until a small ray of light began to glow next to him. The light grew bigger and more intense and soon every was flooded by a bright merciless beam.  
He blinked and tried to make out anything in this sea of light but there seemed to be nothing.  
The hands of the clock reached the big black letter "12" and he knew: It was too late.  
The light went out suddenly and illuminated by the glowing numbers on the now quiet clock he saw a body lying right under the big time-piece. It was a someone with broad shoulders and dark brown hair.  
He couldn't make out his face but he seemed to be okay.  
To his huge relieve he was still able to move and he ran to the boy lying there, determined to save at least this one.  
But fate had other plans.  
Shortly before he reached the obviously unconscious boy a creak startled him and he stopped to make out the cause of the loud noise.  
At first he didn't saw anything special no matter how often he looked around  
Not until he registered the flash of a move out of the corner of his eyes and as he turned his head back to the gigantic clock his blood froze.  
One of the hands had broken right at the end and was falling with immense speed straight onto the boy on the floor.  
No, this couldn't- he tried to reach before it happened, but he was too late.  
Just a few inches before his eyes the sharp head of the broken hand pierced right through the abdomen of the boy. Like a spear it stood out of the ragged flesh and blood was flowing everywhere.  
Another one was dead.  
He had killed another innocent person.  
He closed his eyes and cried.

He didn't want to open his eyes again. Surely there was a new horror awaiting him and he just didn't want to see it. He felt like he was thousands of years old, body aching and stiff.  
His head was filled with the cries of the man and the boy and he didn't want to add another.  
But there were more, weren't there?  
He had killed many more and this was his punishment.  
To relive all of their deaths as a way to pay back a dept he could never be free of.  
He tried to listen and prepare himself for what he would see soon, but there seemed to be nothing than a soft beeping.  
Careful he opened his eyes a crack and tried to proceed what he was seeing.  
He stood in a hospital room with three beds but all of them empty.  
Next to the beds were monitors recording the vitals of persons who didn't exist.  
It looked peaceful but he knew it wouldn't stay this way.

Cheeks still wet from tears he barely could find the energy to make a step forward. But the sooner he did something the sooner he would be confronted with his next victim.  
He just wanted everything to be over.  
Haphazardly he touched everything within reach, the nearest bed and its monitors, the curtains and the blind windows, the table and chairs gathered around the beds, even the floor underneath his feet.  
It worked.  
A choirs of cries began to echo through the room, at least two different voices crying their sorrow out and straight into his face.  
He felt guilty, he felt tired and so so sad. Not for himself but for this poor souls who had died because of him.  
He truly had been a horrible one alive, hadn't he?  
His trail of thoughts broke as he registered peoples lying in the three beds.  
They looked as young as the last two boys and this time there was a girl, too. She was lying in the bed next to him and as he looked closer he felt like throwing up.  
Her body was ripped in two pieces, innards hanging out of the obviously forceful separated halves, blood flowing out and immersing everything in dead and despair.  
He wanted to say sorry, he wanted to cry for her and apologise for doing this to her, but before he could muster up the courage a cough from his right demanded his attention.  
The boy lying in the bed next to the girls one had light brown hair and he wore the same track suit everyone else had. He seemed to be okay, no wounds visible.  
But there was blood.  
Freaking streams of blood poured out of his mouth, his eyes, his nose and his ears. The boy grew pale and he couldn't do anything other than stand there and watching the light of light dying in this young souls eyes.  
The soft beeping he had almost forgot turned into a ear-piercing high sound as the monitor showed the drawn line of death.  
He watched in horror as the blood flowed onto the floor and hastily he stepped aside, afraid to touch the liquid. He hit a corner of the bed behind him and this drew his attention to the third and final bed in the room.  
At first it looked like it was empty and it was indeed, at least up until almost two thirds.  
The last third however held a body, barely counting as a human being, stuck together and broken. What once had been a small boy now was a statue of horror.  
Knees bent and broken neck twisted and hanging in an awkward angle he stared at yet another dead teen, a death caused by his very own hands.  
It was too much.  
Crying and screaming on the top of his lungs he broke down in the middle of this hospital room, the nightmarish illusion produced by his guilty mind twisting and deforming, taking on the shape of all the people he had seen and killed.  
They all stared at him, hands stretched out as if saying "you belong to us".  
So, this was hell.  
And he would never been able to escape, because he had to pay for his sins he would never again experience true peace.  
But something felt strange.  
This hadn't been everything, had it?  
Something - someone was still missing.  
There was one last person he had killed.  
He knew.

As he opened his eyes again, there was a gun right before his eyes.  
The shadows of his victims were still painted on the walls of this cage inside his head.  
Right.  
There was one more person he had killed, with this gun.  
Unintentionally he stretched out his hand and felt the cold and somehow calming cool from the weapon.  
And then there was a mirror, appearing out of nowhere right before his eyes and as soon as he laid an eye on his reflection, everything came back.  
Like a thunderbolt the memories stroke out of the mirror and back inside his head and bit by bit he remembered everything.  
His name was Ukai Keishin.  
He was responsible for the death of a teacher and five innocent teenager.  
And he had killed himself.

The moment the realisation hit him everything disappeared. The gun and his reflection and the mirror and the horrible illusions of his dear players and the adviser.  
He was left with nothing but darkness and sorrow.  
Ukai wanted to just curl in on himself and never be aware again, he didn't want to relive the horrors he had tried to leave behind with the gun.  
But apparently committing suicide didn't change anything. It only made it worse since he now wasn't able anymore to escape his minds pictures.  
He was trapped inside a world he had created himself.  
For eternity.  
And again, he cried.

Since time didn't really exist in this universe he wasn't able to tell for how long he stood there, eyes closed and crying for his victims, for the living he left behind and for himself.  
It felt like it had been only a few seconds but at the same time it had felt like eternity.  
Suddenly a cold wind blew around him and he shivered, opening his eyes in reflex.  
The scene had changed once again and the view he got was painfully familiar.  
He was back at the old cemetery he had visited in his nightmare back when he had still been alive, the old gravestones as dark and threatening as he remembered them.  
Again he thought that it could look peaceful weren't it for the nagging feeling of guilt and self-hate he was drenched in.  
Oh well.. there wasn't much he could do about his situation, was there?  
He had tried to take the easy way out and now he didn't even have that option left.  
There was nothing left for him.  
Nothing but the despair and agony of his doing.  
With empty eyes and an empty heart he watched as the familiar shapes of the five teens and the teacher crept up on him, took form out of the black mist coming from the graves, forming out of nothing.  
Their broken and beaten up bodies made a circle around Ukai and slowly but steady got closer, trapping him in their middle.  
Ukai felt tired.  
He felt so so tired and as he couldn't see anything anymore other than the dark, battered bodies of the poor souls he had killed he closed his eyes.  
He was ready for whatever punishment they had planned for him.  
Maybe they'd stap him, rip him apart and break his bones to make him suffer like they did.  
Maybe they'd come and whisper that they hated him and he now was forever theirs.  
Maybe-  
But nothing happened.  
Out of nowhere, he suddenly felt a warmth rising from his shaking hands to his head and his heart, a warmth that didn't matched the awaited pain at all.  
No, it made him feel strangely save.  
Something like soft hands touched his own, patted his shoulder and petted his head.  
The places where this strange sensation appeared somehow burned, confused about the pureness and the friendliness habiting in those touches.

Carefully, Ukai opened his eyes, ready for whatever horror he had to go through next.  
But the view he got was absolutely stunning.  
With his mouth hanging open and eyes wide he stared at the very same persons from before, but this time they weren't made of shadows and painful screaming.  
Their bodies were intact, no wounds, no blood, no dead and hollow eyes but warm smiles and soft looks instead.  
They all wore what they had worn last but they were clean and neat.  
As he was looking around still stunned and somehow shocked about the change, one of the persons made a few steps in his direction, soft hand stretched out and an inviting expression on his face.  
His short, unruly dark hair swayed softly in a sudden breeze.  
"Ukai-kun", he spoke, voice calm but with the determined tone he already knew, "I'm deeply sorry to see you here. I was so glad you made it out alive. And it hurts me to the core to know how much you've suffered because of me. Know this: I forgive you. My death was not your fault."  
Takeda smiled at him and where his fingers brushed over Ukais arm a mark appeared, branches of a tree growing along his upper arm and painting his skin with colourful flowers.  
Branches as the sign of the living.  
And Takeda vanished.

The next person stepped in front of Ukai. "Coach! I was able to die in the presence of one of my best friends there's nothing more I could've wished for. There was nothing you could've done other than bring back the living. And this you did. Thank you for saving my friends! My death isn't your fault!" With a bright smile Narita let his fingers trail over his arm, too, and underneath the blooming tree branches two hands appeared, holding each other and drenched in bright colours, a picture soft caressing Ukais skin.  
Hands as the sign of eternal friendship.  
And Narita vanished.

The next person raising his voice was Daichi. "Coach. Thank you for trying to save my life. Thank you for trying so hard. It was my own decision to give in to the nothingness of death. You brightened my last minutes alive. My death is not your fault!"  
Upon the captains touch, strong firm hands a clock appeared between the hands Narita had left him with.  
A clock as a sign for eternity.  
And Daichi vanished.

There now were only three persons left and it was the only girl of the group who talked next.  
"Ukai-san. Thank you for completing our team as a Coach. My death wasn't your fault."  
Her small fingers gifted his arm with another picture, the shape of a heart as the core of Takedas blooming branches.  
A heart as a sign for gratefulness.  
And Shimizu vanished.

"Coach. You let me die in peace and with pride, I'm thankful for it. It made it possible to stay in my friends memories as the person I was, not the person the accident had made out of me. Don't blame yourself for not noticing sooner, I was the stubborn one, after all." Kinoshitas face, free of any blood or scratches smiled at him, "My death was not your fault."  
And the second year touched his arm as well, his hands leaving fingerprints in pastel blue and pink, matching the pictures already there.  
Fingerprints as a sign of never being forgotten.  
And Kinoshita vanished.

With a cheerful voice the last remaining teen addressed his former Coach: "Ukai-san! We love you, you know! Thanks to you we were able to leave this world while knowing we beat Aoba Johsai. We were able to make it this far thanks to you!! You were so brave out there. My death wasn't your fault!"  
And the energetic Libero left Ukai with a bright shining sun on his skin, immersing all the other pictures in its light.  
A sun as the sign of joy.  
And Nishinoya vanished.

Ukai stood where they had left him, not able to feel anything other but joy and relieve.  
So they didn't blame him.  
Their death wasn't his fault.

But-  
but there was one that was.  
And as he felt one last touch on his back he knew who was waiting for him.  
He turned around coming face to face with himself.  
The Ukai standing in front of him smiled but his eyes were sad and tired.  
He lifted his hand to cup his other self's cheek.  
"You killed me. You killed yourself. You know, maybe the living needed you, maybe you could've helped them to come back to their feet.  
But this, we will never know. No one will judge your choice other than yourself and for this, I'm here.  
Keishin. I'm not mad you killed me. I understand. I forgive you."  
And where the hand of the smiling Ukai was touching his cheek, warmth spread in every corner of his body, a warmth so much stronger than the one before. A warmth allowing him to settle down.  
Warmth as a sign for forgiveness.  
And the other Ukai vanished.

The cemetery disappeared, the scene back to the nothingness from the beginning.  
Ukai closed his eyes, felt the warmth from himself in his body, felt the soft touch of all the words given to him.

And with a tired but content smile on his lips, his awareness ceased to be.


End file.
